Talking to the Moon
by HecateA
Summary: Hook serenading his three loves; his ship, his moon, and that Swan woman. Oneshot.


**It only seemed fair that my first OUAT fanfic should be a birthday offering for Fry, who's a huge nut about this show- particularly Emma and Hook. I mean, such a nut, that she was basically shaking on Sunday before the mid-winter finale. It was crazy. It only seems fair to share this story with the world after her very happy finale episode. I hope you enjoy this story as much as she says she did!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own characters or elements of the Storybrooke universe.**

**Dedication: Fry**

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><p><strong>Talking to the Moon <strong>

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><p><em>If someday the moon calls you by your name don't be surprised, because every night I tell her about you.<em>

_-Shahrazad al-Khalij_

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><p>"They say you shouldn't go ignore your lovers if you want them to stay, but you're different," Hook said leaning against the Jolly Roger's railing and tipping his chin upwards.<p>

The captain of the first ship Hook had ever sailed on, as the pedigreed mariner Kilian Jones, had told him that one day he'd be so comfortable at sea that he'd never feel the dips and tips of the ship as it sailed. Him? He thought that he'd reached the perfect balance. Always feeling the wobble of his ship on the waves, but walking with it as naturally as he breathed the salty ocean air.

It was a cold night, but Hook's coat was buckled against the wind well enough. The wind wasn't even biting; it was a love bite at the least. And even if it was freezing, Hook wouldn't miss it for the world. The stars were all out- the sky was clearer than he'd ever seen it in this world. If he asked Belle it would probably have a direct correlation with the amount of magic in Storybrook, but he didn't care. He only cared about Smee's astrological calculations about tonight.

"Yeah," he said looking up at the moon. "And she is too. The woman I was telling you about when I couldn't turn to me crew."

He took a step towards starboard. A plank creaked beneath his feet. He'd just about forgotten about that squeaky plank.

"I'm not onboard as much," Hook said. "She's been in harbour for a long time, this ship…"

He looked up at the moon. "But I think that's alright. If you don't have to go anywhere, nothing to run away from, then why should you? And I think I'm alright here right now. Really, you should be the judge of that. You've seen things a bit more objectively than I have…"

The moon and Hook had a long relationship. It was the only thing he knew of who could go through phases without ever leaving him, dying on him, mutinying against him… the moon was constant and it tugged at the tides that Hook needed so much at sea. It put a light in the sky that Hook could look to for reassurance instead of vital navigational cues and airborne road maps.

"I see things like a drunk around her," Hook said. "Nothing else makes sense in this insanity. Nothing is important if not her. Nothing compares to her on any scale, nothing is as _good _as her."

The waves were his only answer, but that had never bothered Hook. Talking himself through emotions had never been one of his strength, and talking alone would make him seen like a madman. Talking to the moon was a middle ground between the two.

"I think I forgot to tell you, Moon. But there's a girl in this land. A real… real _good _one. A woman. And I'm trying to figure out if I'm in love with her."

A shooting star flashed periodically as if the night sky was winking.

"She's a special one, Emma Swan," he said grabbing the mainmast with his hand, the rest of him dangling. "My Emma Swan. Only one like her, like you. Full of dents from where people smashed into her and left their mark. But she doesn't look or feel broken, she's only beautiful. So beautiful… There's something amidst with her that makes you _want _her close, even if she's strong enough to push you a hundred feet back if she doesn't want the same."

He leaned his head against it. Strong and sturdy like the rest of his ship, the mainmast was the one part of the ship he'd never had to replace or quickly salvage after a particularly vindictive storm.

"I think I could sell my soul for that woman," Hook said looking up at the sky. "Not my ship, but my soul yes. I could stay in one place for a long time for her if she wanted me around. My anchor will be sick and tired of Storybrook but if she's not sick of me, it'll have to stay. Good things the stars are nice here. What do you think about that?" he asked the sky. "Is that love?"

Hook pushed himself straight.

"I think that looks like the first shooting star," someone said. He spun around and his eyes took in Emma all at once- Emma and her tell-tale leather jacket and her white tuque and mitts to bundle up against the cold.

"Is it, mate?" he asked tilting his chin up. His eyes went up just in time for the second star. And the third… and the fourth…

"Yeah," Emma said. "You got me. Your ship really does have a better view of the meteor shower than the bell tower."

"Drinks on you next time."

"As if I'd go drinking with you," Emma rolled her eyes.

"Scared to lose that composure of yours, Swan?" Hook asked.

Emma ignored him and looked at the sky.

"Beautiful," Hook nodded looking at the comets and their fading tails.

"I didn't know you were one to appreciate beauty," Emma said.

"From the sky, yes," Hook said. "We sailors go far back with the sky, Swan."

"I heard you even talk to it sometimes," Emma said.

Hook's blood froze and she laughed before looking up again.

Hook looked up too, swallowing back a _yes. _He'd save that one for the moon.


End file.
